


Forgotten Past

by Kitkat12499



Series: Magic's Reincarnation [2]
Category: Merlin - Fandom, teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Immortal Merlin, Magic, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Reincarnation, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles is Merlin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-23 01:16:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7460895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitkat12499/pseuds/Kitkat12499
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Magics Reincarnation: Scott gets bitten and Stiles finds that the foreign magic inside him isn't the only special thing in the human world. With his best friend turning into a werewolf and strange dreams and memories haunting him, can he get through the year?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya! I'm Kitkat and this is my sequel to Magic's Reincarnation. Thank you for reading and please give me reviews. Give me reviews good or bad, I don't care. Just need to some opinions on my writing. Also, my story isn't edited. :)

Third person p.o.v.

 

Myrddin Emrys Stilinski has always been a strange kid, and not just because of his name. When he was born, his father saw his caramel colored eyes flash a brilliant gold before fading back to normal. And when he looked in the eyes of his boy, you didn't see a little boy's eyes, but wary, wise eyes.

Strange happenings always occurred around little Myrddin. When he was a small baby, he couldn't control it as easily. Claudia worried that people would notice, so her and John didn't act out noticeably in the community anymore. Claudia stopped speaking to her friends as much, and they kept their son in the house most of the time.

Other little boys only had to worry about learning how to speak and walk and be potty trained, but Myrddin had to learn this and more. He had to keep the raging energy beneath the surface. It got so hard, especially if he has an emotional outburst. It would just come out and things would move or catch fire. One time his mother dropped a vase and it startled him. The tingling feeling under the skin came stronger than ever and out through his fingertips. His eyes burned gold and the vase was whole again, sitting on the table as if Claudia hadn't tipped it off a mere few seconds before.

Myrddin still went to school, despite his mothers misgivings, and met another kid named Scott McCall. They became friends instantly, even if Scott didn't know about Myrddin's strange power. One day, around the age of 6, Myrddin came home acting depressed. His mother asked but received no answer. Deciding to call Scott's mom, Melissa, she found out that the kids at school were making fun of her precious Myrddin because of his name. 

As a little girl Claudia loved fairy tales and stories of magic her mother would read to her before bed. When Claudia was a teenager and young adult, she always had a passion for history and medieval times. Especially the legend of King Arthur. She wanted to name her child from something on the legends. At first she thought of the name Merlin or Morgana, depending on the gender, but knew that people would tease her child because of it. 

Now she still ended up making her son someone to be taunted and teased and was depressed by it, so she decided to try to make it up to her son. She would help his choose from a list of names off of a website. Myrddin was excited. He would finally be able to get a different name, maybe even a cool one. Myrddin ended up, after hours of lists of baby names, to choose the weirdest name he could find, Stiles. He felt that it suited him fine enough, and sounded right enough to him. 

As newly named Stiles grew older, the restless energy inside him grew stronger and more erratic. Everyday he'd do practices to keep it under control, but lack of control left him jumpy and didn't help his focus. He most people thought he had ADHD because of this fact. He felt, despite his troubling powers, that his life was somewhat perfect. He was close to his mom and John was the best dad ever, both amazing in their own ways. Sadly it couldn't last, because Claudia was diagnosed with frontotemporal dementia and later died when he was 8. 

Stiles was with her when she died and blamed his himself for her death. He tried and tried, but the magic inside him would never work. He blamed himself. Maybe it was his fault, maybe his magic hurt her. He remembered when he got scared from a terrifying nightmare one night when he was 7, and caused a candle flame to spread to his curtains with a flash of gold eyes. Maybe it was his fault. 

His father and him became closer, and yet not. They would spend a lot of time together, but Stiles couldn't confide in his father about his magic, not like he did with his mom. It didn't feel right. Nights of countless research, Stiles found out about magic and the Old Religion and Merlin. For some odd reason he had a sense of nostalgia when reading about Camelot, but pushed the strange, foreign feeling away. 

What he didn't know was that everything would change right before his sophomore year, because Scott was going to join his strange, nonhuman world of abilities and possibilities. Just not in the way he could've ever imagined. One full moon changed everything.


	2. Wolves and Bites

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :) Sorry about practically copying and pasting the dialogue from the characters in the beginning, but it will change when the plot goes off differently.

Stiles slept, face scrunched up in pain. Images of swords and Knights with bright red capes came into his mind. A forest, so filled with life and magic, and a man with golden hair and ocean blue eyes showed up in his dreams. A longing so strong it hurt was deep inside his chest at the scene, tears sliding down his pale cheeks. God, he didn't even know what he was seeing but he couldn't help but feel like this was something that was once his, that he had lost.

Flickers of golden strands of magic surged forward, along with visions of war. Visions of wars with swords and horses, with crossbows and knives, and then with guns and machines. Blood and death made him flinch, the price of victory too high. 

The last of the visions he remembers is a sharp pain of a wound, caused by an enemy shot, before he bolts out of bed, trembling and sweaty. Stiles wiped the sweat from his pale face, sighing sadly. He remembers as a kid having dreams every once in a while and he would scream as he awoke. Now he was used to the dreams as they occurred more frequently and he didn't scream anymore.

The sunlight, so dim compared to the good part of his dream with the forest, brightened up his room. He yawned and stretched, the dreams being pushed to the back of his mind. Of course he never forgot a dream, or memory as he felt it was, but he could temporarily not think about it.

A look at his phone made him realize it was almost time for sophomore year of school. The 16 year old was kind of excited for lacrosse, but knew he had to be careful. Any strong emotion, even happiness, could cause his magic to flare. Even though he knew he wouldn't get off the bench this season, he was still excited for lacrosse. 

Later on, that night, Stiles listened in on his dad and found out dispatch called and said they found a body in the woods. Despite having magic, that not even Scott knew about, nothing really exciting happened in Beacon Hills. So, he decided to go to Scott's and go to the woods to search for the other half of the body. It sounded more fun then sleeping with his dreams or sitting around the house bored.

He probably shouldn't have scared Scott, but he wasn't answering the phone and the look on his face just made it all worth it. Stiles shot out from the top of the porch and scared the crap out of his best friend. Scott started screaming and waving around a freaking baseball bat and that made Stiles yell back. 

"Stiles, what the hell are you doing?" exclaimed Scott in exasperation and a tinge of fear after they stopped yelling.

"You weren't answering your phone." His voice went sort of high as he spoke. "Why do you have a bat?" Stiles asked loudly, pointing to the offending object.

"I thought you were a predator." Scott shot back, gesturing with his arms, one still holding said bat.

"A pre - I - wha - look, I know it's late, but you gotta hear this. I saw my dad leave 20 minutes ago. Dispatch called. They're bringing in every officer from the Beacon Department, and even State Police." the warlock exclaimed excitedly, hanging from the porch like a monkey and holding on by his legs. His arms were loose, swinging as he spoke.

"For what?" Scott questioned in confusion.

"Two joggers found a body in the woods." Stiles explained, dropping down in the grass.

"A dead body?" Scott asked, looking down towards the ground. 

Stiles stood up and put his arms on the railing outlining the porch, giving his friend a look that told him that he was an idiot, "No, a body of water. Yes, dumb - ass, a dead body." 

"You mean like murdered?" the teen asked, interest showing in his eyes.

Stiles put his hands on his hips. "Nobody knows yet. Just that it was a girl, probably in her 20s." He made gestures with his hands as he described the situation.

"Hold on, if they found the body, then what are they looking for?" Scott asked.

"That's the best part. They only found half." Stiles gave him an amused look and rolled his eyes. "We're going." 

They took a ride in Stiles's jeep, making it to the Beacon Hills Preserve. Stopping at the sign that said NO ENTRY AFTER DARK, they got out and Scott looked at Stiles with uncertainty. 

"We're seriously doing this?" he asked concerned.

"You're the one always bitching that nothing ever happens in this town." Stiles replied hitting his shoulder and turning on his flashlight. 

Scott stopped in front of the blue jeep, looking at his friend as he kept walking. 

"I was trying to get a good night's sleep before practice tomorrow." he said to Stiles before following. 

The warlock replied as he was being followed through the woods, passing by trees. He decided to not think about how lifeless the forest felt compared to his dream. "Right, 'cause sitting on the bench is such a grueling effort." He hoped Scott wouldn't notice how his mind wandered or how his eyes flared gold. His magic made it to where he could see the forest better, and his senses improved a little above average.

Scott walked with his hands in his bright red hoodie, hood pulled over his dark brown hair. Stiles had on his usual outfit, jeans and a shirt with a plaid over shirt. To keep warm he had a thick, plain brown jacket. 

"No, because I'm playing this year. In fact, I'm making first line." 

"Hey, that's the spirit. Everyone should have a dream, even a pathetically unrealistic one." Stiles didn't look back as he made his usual sarcasm known.

Stiles's eyes flashed again to create a golden trail that led to where he wanted to go, not paying attention to the cops up ahead that were on the way to the body. He smiled in victory.

"Just out of curiosity, which half of the body are we looking for?" Scott asked and Stiles's smile turned into a frown of thought as he stopped. 

"Huh! I didn't even think about that." he answered as he started forward again.

"And, uh, what if whoever killed the body is still out here?" the red hooded teen asked with a smirk.

The wizard shook his head. "Also something I didn't think about." 

Stiles started climbing up a hill, Scott trudging along after him.

"It's - comforting to know you've planned this out with your usual attention to detail." Scott retorted as they got up the hill, fallen leaves crunching on the ground.

"I know." 

"Maybe the severe asthmatic should be the one holding the flashlight, huh?" Scott questioned and leaned against a tree, taking out his inhaler and shaking it as he started the hike again.

Stiles fell to the ground on purpose, seeing lights up ahead and cursing himself under his breath for not noticing. His friend dropped to his side, inhaler in hand. Then Stiles made a stupid decision at that point, he decided to start running, leaving his friend to suck on his inhaler before trying to catch up. "Wait, come on." He said before sprinting. 

Stiles thought he could hide from the figures up ahead.

"Stiles! Wait up! Stiles! Stiles!" Scott yelled, trying not to be too loud for anyone to hear, but not wanting to lose his best friend in the dark.

Stiles stopped for his friend to catch up, not noticing the dog and police man behind him. A flashlight shined brightly in his eyes and he fell to the ground as a vicious dog barked at him. Scott hid before he could be caught.

"Hold it right there!" the man exclaimed.

"Hang on, hang on. This little delinquent belongs to me." The sheriff said, coming up and looking down in exasperation.

Stiles as about to reply with in a cheeky manner before the energy inside him lashed out, a wind forming in the seemingly still night. His eyes burned gold for a split second and a sharp but quick pain came to his chest. He winced. When it ended he looked at his dad, who recognized the eye color change and quickly grabbed Stiles from the ground.

"Stiles, what is it? What's going on?" he asked quietly as he dragged him towards where he assumed the jeep was.

"I-I don't know dad. The magic feels, I d-don't know, wrong. There's t-this pain and I can't control it." he muttered, trying not to fall into one of his panic attacks.

"Is it like last time?" the sheriff asked, referring to when there was a magical creature, a griffin, that was attacking people in the woods. Stiles killed it later on, but when a creature that has harmful intentions is out, his magic lashing at as a warning.

"Y-yeah, but worse. Dad, Scott's still out there. I have to get him." Stiles replied as they stopped at his jeep. 

"Fine, but be home as soon as you can." It took a second to decide, but he knew his son had magic on his side.

Stiles had to walk the long way to get where he was before as to not have a run in with the cops again. By the time he got there Scott was long gone.

"Dammit!" he exclaimed, rubbing a hand over his buzz cut hair. "Scott!"

He started to sprint, eyes burning bright gold and showing the way. Before he could stop himself, he fell down a steep hill, hitting his shoulder on a tree on the way down and crying out in pain. 

"Scott!" he saw Scott's familiar form, along with a dark unfamiliar shape with glowing bright eyes.

Before he could do anything, the form, now noticeable as a wolf, came down on Scott, biting his side and making him cry out in pain. Scott didn't notice him and sprinted away. Stiles followed. He looked back, eyes flaring gold and making the wolf cry out in pain, before running after his best friend. He knew it wouldn't stop the wolf, but maybe it would slow it down. 

He caught up in time to see a car almost hit his friend, and pulled him away from the road. 

"Stiles, how the hell are you here?" the bitten teen asked, looking at him in shock. 

"Scott, I was worried about you!" Stiles yelled. "So I found walked to where we were and followed where I thought you were! And then I see a freaking wolf biting your ass! Which is really weird considering there shouldn't even be wolves in California!" 

The mention of the bite caused Scott to wince before lifting his shirt and hoodie, revealing the bite. 

"Wow, that's so gross." Stiles grimaced at the sight. No matter how much injuries that came about in his dream, it still grossed him out to see it. "Yep, we should go get ya cleaned up!" 

Stiles put his hand on Scott's shoulder when the injury was covered again and walked him down the road, recognizing where they were and leading him to where his jeep was parked. He drove Scott to his house and bandaged him up before going home, back to his bed and his dreams.


	3. School and Symptoms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)

Stiles awoke the next morning, exhausted. After getting pain medication for his tender shoulder and headache, he drove to school to meet up with Scott who came on his bicycle. When he met up with Scott, he asked to check the bite to make sure he was okay.

"Dude, I can't believe there was a wolf. There hasn't even been a wolf in California in like 60 years!" Stiles exclaimed, but inside he was worried about the magic he felt. A trace of it was on Scott's bite, and it worried Stiles because that wasn't an ordinary wolf last night.

"Stiles, before I ran into the wolf, I saw something that made me fall down the hill. I found the body." 

"You- are you kidding me?" the warlock exclaimed. "Oh, god, that is freakin' awesome. I mean, this is seriously gonna be the best thing that's happened to this town since -"

A beautiful girl with curly strawberry blonde hair and emerald green eyes passed, posse of friends following her. "Since the birth of Lydia Martin. Hey, Lydia - You look -" The girl walked by without a backwards glance towards Stiles. "Like you're gonna ignore me. You're the cause of this, you know." 

He gave Scott an accusing glance, like Lydia not noticing him was somehow his fault. What Scott didn't know was that Stiles was long over his crush. He did previously have a crush on her, just not anymore. After awhile he did it out of habit, plus it was pretty funny seeing him go after a girl way out of his league. 

"Uh-huh." Scott replied, looking at Stiles like he was crazy.

"Draggin' me down to your nerd depths. I'm a nerd by association. I've been scarlet nerded by you." Stiles joked as they walked into the school.

First period was a bore. The teacher, at first, tricked the students into thinking he'd be talking about something other than school. He started by mentioning the body found and a suspect in custody, which was news to Stiles, before switching to the syllabus like a switch.

Stiles wasn't paying attention, practically drooling on the syllabus that outlined the semester. He was about to take a quick nap when he saw Scott looking around, expression confused. He rubbed his ears before looking outside. The warlock followed his gaze, seeing an unfamiliar girl with curly brown hair and brown eyes.

Golden eyes replaced whiskey colored for a second, magic enhancing his hearing.

"Mom, three calls on my first day is a little overdoing it. Everything except a pen. Oh, my God, I didn't actually forget a pen. Okay, Okay. I gotta go. Love ya." The phone beeped as she hung up. She got up to greet the vice principle before walking inside the school with him. Stiles heard them talking in the hall as they walked.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. So you were saying San Fransisco isn't where you grew up?" his deep voice asked.

"No, but we lived there for more than a year, which is unusual in my family." the new girl replied as they got closer to the classroom.

"Well, hopefully Beacon Hills will be your last stop for a while. Class, this is our new student, Allison Argent. Please do your best to make her feel welcome." the vice principle spoke as he opened the door and came in, the new girl, Allison, in front of him.

Stiles eyes flashed as he cancelled the spell. He absently translated what her last name meant, silver. Was that too much of a coincidence to what he was thinking Scott was? Or the abnormal wolf with harsh magical energy?

"Thanks." she murmured before taking the empty seat behind Scott.

Scott shyly turned around and handed her a spare pen. Allison thanked him, looking at him strangely. Stiles was too busy trying not to gape like a fish. How? How did he hear her? Stiles used magic, so how did he do that? Did the bite affect Scott like he was thinking he did?

The school day passed normally after that, boring lesson after boring lesson. Stiles took half the day thinking about Scott's freaky bite, and the other half sleeping on the desks.

In the halls between classes, the magic user noticed that Lydia, popular girl with a wicked fashion sense, already started hanging out with Allison. In his opinion, beautiful people herd together.

After school, lacrosse practice was usual, Stiles being in the sidelines. He didn't mind. He already had a hard time focusing on bottling up the energy without playing a rough sport. Besides, he was only on the team to be around his best friend. He was glad he resisted the temptation to use his magic to help further his skill in lacrosse. He got it, he was thin and lanky and clumsy. He didn't want to cheat, and he was proud that he hasn't.

What he didn't expect during the day was Scott's supernatural skills that seem to have been granted to him overnight. He was suddenly like a professional player on the field. God, he knew that the mutant bite affected him! Wolf man infected him with something!

Big bad wolf- check! Bite- check! Creepy, glowing red eyes- check, check, and check! He was obviously a werewolf! He didn't know if he was looking into it too much and watching too many werewolf movies, but it all led to the supernatural. And he hasn't searched too much into the supernatural creatures, but the few he encountered had magical energy flowing through their veins, their very beings.


	4. Derek Hale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! :) I hope you enjoy my story. Just remember, it's not edited so there will be mistakes. Comments are appreciated.

Chapter 4: Derek Hale

Stiles and Scott were in the woods after school, searching for Scott's inhaler. The warlock absently noticed his friend's need of it vanishing. He knew his best pal since they were little was a werewolf. He wondered how he would approach the subject. 

"I don't - I don't know what it was. It was like I had all the time in the world to catch the ball. And that's not the only weird thing. I - I can - hear stuff I shouldn't be able to hear. Smell things." 

"Smell things? Like what?"

"Like the mint - mojito gum in your pocket." Scott replied, pointing to said pocket.

" don't even have any mint - " he pulls an old piece of gum that he doesn't even remember when he bought, no surprise on his features. "mojito - So all this started with a bite."

"What if it's like an infection, like, my body's flooding with adrenaline before I go into shock or something?" Stiles scoffs at his friend's melodramatic tendencies.

"You know what? I actually think I've heard of this - It's a specific kind of infection. Stiles said sarcastically, rolling his eyes when his friend gave him a shocked, fearful look, as if he would drop dead from some mysterious disease. 

"Are you serious?" he asked 

"Yeah. Yeah, I think it's called - lycanthropy." the warlock said, fighting back a grin at his friend's reaction.

"What's that? Is that bad?

"Oh, yeah, it's the worst. But only once a month." he said, laughter bubbling up. 

"Once a month?" Scott asked, giving a look of confusion. 

"Mm - hmm. On the night of the full moon." Stiles howled mockingly, grinning when Scott gave him a pissed off look. "You did get bitten by wolfy at night in the woods!"

"Hey, there could be something seriously wrong with me." he replied, giving the magic user an offended look.

"I know! You're a werewolf! Rrr! Okay, obviously I'm kidding. But if you see me in shop class trying to melt all the silver I can find, it's 'cause Friday's a full moon." 

They kept walking until Scott stopped. He looked around, clearly remembering something from that night.

"No, I - I could have sworn this was it. I saw the body, the deer came running. I dropped my inhaler." he muttered, wiping leaves off the forest floor to look for said object.

"Maybe the killer moved the body." Stiles replied absently, glancing around when he felt a strange magical energy. It wasn't a bad type of energy, like a dark one of something or someone that thrives off of causing harm. But it was foreign yet familiar.

"If he did, I hope he left my inhaler. Those things are like 80 bucks."

Stiles was about to reply when the energy grew stronger. It spiked and he looked up from his friend to see an imposing figure. I muscular guy with a scowl, green eyes zoned in on them. Stiles hit his friend to get his attention. Scott looked up, not knowing there was a man there until he spotted him. He quickly got up as well, standing beside his friend.

"What are you doing here? Huh? This is private property." the man said, frowning at the two of them. Stiles took but a moment to recognize him.

"Um... Sorry man, didn't know." he mumbled, trying not to let his eyes glow with the magical presence of Derek Hale. 

The man's green eyes seemed to be a bright blue to Stiles for a split second before reverting back to the original green color. Stiles shivered, a faint outline of a huge wolf seemed to cover the man if he looked close enough. It was hardly visible, and he doubted anyone without magic would notice. 

"Yeah we were just... looking for something... Hum, forget it..." Scott looked strange, like he was trying to figure something out. He gave a searching look at Derek, like he wanted to know something.

Dreck threw an object, Scott's inhaler, at Scott. He catches it with ease, looking down to stare at it before pocketing it.

"Okay, I have to go to work." he remembered, looking back to Stiles.

"Dude, that was Derek Hale ! You remember, right ? He's just a few years older than us." Stiles said, remembering the weird tingling magic he felt surrounding Derek all those years ago.

"Remember what?" Scott asked, confused.

"His family. There was this fire that killed his family like, years ago." the warlock replied.

"What is he doing back?"

"Don't know... Come on." Stiles said, making his way back to his jeep, Scott following.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------  
"It's... lonely. To... be more powerful than any man you know and have to live like a shadow. To... be special and, and have to pretend you're a fool. I know how it feels, I understand." Loneliness and pain build in his chest.

"All those jokes about you being a coward... I never really meant any of them. I always thought you were the bravest man I ever met. Guess I was wrong." Anger and frustration. He's such a prat! He doesn't even know what he's talking about! 

"You are more than a son of your father. You are son of the earth, the sea, the sky. Magic is the fabric of this world, and you were born of that magic. You are magic itself. You can not lose what you are." Acceptance, and contentment settle, and a drop of happiness as well.

"How could you hope to understand?"

"I do understand, believe me."

"You don't know what it's like to be an outsider! To be ashamed of how you were born; to hide who you are!" Understanding flooded through him. He got it. He felt the same.

"No man is worth your tears." He was just trying to help, but he was just making it worse.

"Dracan! Nán dyd ǽlc áciere miss! Eftsíðas eom ála cræt! Géate' stǽr ábære gárrǽs! Géate cyre. Mé tácen átende diegollice. Car grise áþes." Stop! Listen! I command you! 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------  
Stiles awoke with a gasp, tears tumbling down his cheeks. Why? Why do they keep happening? What were these dreams? They were getting worse, and he didn't know what to do. When he had his mother, he had someone to confide in, to understand. He doesn't know how to tell his dad, how to admit to his fear and tell him about the visions. They weren't magic related, he was sure of it. If it wasn't, then that meant they were his memories. But how could that be? He doesn't remember any of those dreams.

He looked at the clock, to find out it was 4:43 a.m. Lovely, he still had hours before he had to go to school, distraction. Now all he had was silence, which wasn't good. With nothing to do, he was left with his thoughts. He didn't want to think. He just wanted something to distract him from where his mind was taking him. 

Deciding research was the best option, he opened a new tab on google and tried to find what is happening to him. But all he found about vivid, strange dreams were sleeping disorders. That didn't help him. He knew that it wasn't that. These dreams were't delusions. He would be able to tell. Well, he thinks he would.

Only 30 minutes have passed and he quit searching, which was usually unheard of for Stiles Stilinski. Usually he could research anything he could think of for hours on end, but for now he was too mentally exhausted to bother anymore.

The dreams should just be dreams, but it felt more than that. They seemed so familiar, yet so foreign. Those voices sounded so normal. He couldn't recall ever hearing and saying what was mentioned in the dream, and yet he felt as if it happened. It was just a feeling, yet, but a strong one.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------  
Deciding that studying and silence didn't sit well with him, Stiles chose to go for a walk in the woods. Of course he knew of the dangers, he just didn't care anymore. He had his phone and his magic, and that was all he needed. 

Leaves crunched underneath his shoes as he walked, barely sparing a glance to his surroundings. Stiles kept his gaze forward, making sure to keep walking without tripping, one foot in front of the other. He was slightly cold, considering it usually was chilly in the night and early mornings, and tired, but contented. 

The woods and just nature in general were always calming to him. Being cramped up in his room didn't always sit well with him. Being anywhere inside made him feel constricted, like chains were clutching at his body, and he couldn't break free. His magic worked like any parts of his body, acting when it was needed or not, involuntary, like a reflex. So when he panicked, his magic panicked. His magic was most calm outside, because he body was more calm. It felt like home.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't recognize the familiar magical signature till it was right in front of him. Derek Hale. Usually, Stiles didn't like being around anyone else even remotely similar to him, having the same strange energy inside them. Mostly this is because most magical beings, while not a whole lot, had not so good intentions. But looking into the green eyes of Derek, he didn't see any of that. He recognized loneliness and stress, but nothing even close to evil.

"What are you doing here again?" Derek asked, practically growling. Stiles thought that it didn't match his eyes, which he heard were windows to the soul.

"Sorry," Stiles said, usual sarcasm and jokes pushed far back and leaving a dreamy, ancient expression. His eyes weren't glowing, but they were a pale, icy blue. "I didn't notice I walked all the way to your property." And he really didn't. How long has it been? Did he really walk that far.

Derek seemed to be studying him, as if searching for something. His eyes widened slightly when he looked into Stiles's eyes, noticing how they weren't whiskey colored anymore and held a more haunted expression. He didn't seem to know what to say, but Stiles didn't mind. He walked passed Derek, not caring that he was still on private property, and kept trudging, staring up at the trees and humming a tune he'd never heard before.

"I can't live like this, the world isn't going to change. All I've known that was consistent was war, and violence. I don't want to remember. I don't want to remember any of this. this spell has to work." a voice mumbles so quiet that they must have been to himself. A book with a different language swims into his view, and he recognizes it, knows how to read it.

A new, vague image filters through his vision and he chokes. Men, men who were selfish and viscous, stood in front of him, old and rusty weapons in hand. He can't breathe, a sword slides into his into his back, as easy and quick like butter, and he can't feel for a split, blissful, second. Then pain erupts and he cries out.

Everything starts to fade, the last thing he sees are cruel men, searching his person for anything of value. In those last minutes, he feels not only pain, but acceptance. He wants to die, he let himself be killed. The pain becomes too much, and he blacks out.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------  
Derek didn't know who this kid was, other than the friend of a newly bitten werewolf, but he didn't smell exactly human. His scent was similar to one, but it also had power, power that isn't exactly human. Derek hasn't encountered a teen like him before. One minute this guy, that he heard the new beta call Stiles, was sarcastic and witty, and very outgoing, and then the next he changed. He seemed ancient, older, and wiser. Derek didn't know what to make of him.

He was going to kick him out of the woods when he noticed the change. One moment the kid seemed tired and agitated, and the next he took on a dreamy expression. His eyes clouded and he looked at him as if he just woke up. His eyes seemed blue when he could of sworn they were brown. When he walked, he seemed slow and trudged, as if he was sleepwalking. He went through the forest with no clear destination in mind.

He was shocked out of his stupor by an elevated heartbeat and a pained gasp. Derek turned back to Stiles to see him staring into space. He ran over to where he walked and saw a haunted, pained look in his eyes. He was staring into space, seemingly seeing something that Derek couldn't. Tears came to his eyes and he fell to his knees. He leans forward and chokes, dry heaving. It seemed like he was having a nightmare. 

Stiles seemed to be barely able to hold his body upright for himself, and Derek tried to help him stay up. Stiles cried, harder and Derek could smell fear and pain. He crouched down and held onto Stiles's harm, trying to ground him. Then, he screams, and Derek winces because of his sensitive ears. The body in his hold suddenly slumps, practically deadweight.   
What just happened?


End file.
